


The Wraith and the Ghost

by idreamofignoct



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post Recall, Romance, Sad with happy ending, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idreamofignoct/pseuds/idreamofignoct
Summary: Jack and Gabe have reconciled and now live a quiet, loving life together. But the unthinkable happens, leaving Gabe at the mercy of his own demons.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	The Wraith and the Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like some sad r76 so here you go!

It started as a cold. Nothing too concerning. The only thing Gabe worried about was keeping Jack supplied with plenty of tissues and soup. And damn, did that man inhale bowl after bowl. Gabe didn’t mind. He loved taking care of Jack. After all the years Jack sacrificed for the sake of others, Gabe felt justified in spoiling Jack rotten.

But just when Jack seemed to shake off the cold, he became feverish. He stopped eating. He couldn’t sleep more than a handful of hours. Weakness kept him from leaving their bed. Gabe was at a loss. He didn’t know what was happening. They’d both been designed to survive anything. All he could do was watch helplessly as Jack grew weaker. 

One night, Gabe lay next to Jack, his arms tight around him and face wet with tears. Jack, shivering against him, drew in a shaky breath and whispered, “…Gabe…m’sorry,” before falling silent. 

Gabe pressed several kisses to Jack’s clammy skin. “It’s okay, Jack, don’t apologize,” he murmured. The apology scared the hell out of him. Made him desperate to stay awake, to spend every moment with Jack. Eventually, Gabe couldn’t fight his exhaustion any longer. He drifted off to the sound of Jack’s labored breathing.

It was the silence that startled Gabe awake. He gazed into his husband’s features, and a stark truth stared back: Jack had passed in his sleep, the ravages of his illness smoothed away. Anguish crushed Gabe in the space of a single heartbeat. He broke down, clutching Jack to him, begging him to come back, come back, please, come back, don’t leave me, over and over. But Jack was gone. The man Gabe had protected, loved, hated, and loved again, was gone. Gabe was alone.

There was no family to contact, no one to come to their home to express condolences. Not even Ana, who Gabe had loved and respected as much as Jack. Seeing her would only hurt more. Grief and sorrow were his constant companions in the days following Jack’s death. 

Gabe cleaned Jack’s body in a blur of tears. Recalled how blithely they discussed their final arrangements. 

_“I’d like to be buried here,” Jack murmured one night. “No funeral home, no wake, nothing. I want you to prepare me.”_

_Gabe, pressed close to him, hid the fear settling in his heart behind rough, impassioned words. “It doesn’t matter what you want me to do. We’re going at the same time.”_

_Jack made a soft sound. “I’d like that,” he said, running a hand down Gabe’s back. “Dying one after the other. Like on the battlefield. It’ll be romantic.”_

_“Your idea of romance is shitty, Jack,” Gabe grumbled, and Jack laughed. “You’d only know romance if it shot you.”_

_“How do you think we ended up together?” Jack countered, Gabe hearing that smug grin in his voice, loving and exasperating him at the same time._

_Gabe buried his face into the side of Jack’s neck and grunted. “Shut up and go to sleep, old man.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

Gabe laid Jack out on their bed, still sobbing as he placed Jack’s hands over his chest. The ring on the third finger of Jack’s hand winked in the low light. Gabe touched it with a trembling hand. He’d agonized over finding the right ring. Jack had no such difficultly. He picked out Gabe’s ring within fifteen minutes, then spent the rest of the time trying to peek at the ones Gabe pondered. In other words, just being himself. 

God, it’d only been a few days and Gabe missed him so much. He curled onto the bed beside Jack wept.

It took another two days before Gabe summoned enough strength to bury Jack. No sooner had he shoveled the last bit of dirt over the grave, Gabe’s body began to dissolve. Wisps of smoke drifted from him, caught on the wind and spiraling away. He sensed these parts of himself ripping free, the pain usually associated with his unraveling minimized by the heartache of losing Jack. Gabe didn’t think he’d ever feel anything again. 

Weeks passed. Months. Gabe devolved into a semi-solid form, living on the outskirts of their home. He couldn’t set foot in the house he and Jack had made together. Too many memories haunted that place. Nor could he bring himself to visit Jack’s grave. What purpose would it serve? Jack had been the bulwark against the darkness inside Gabe. Without him, Gabe was at the mercy of his own mind. 

Things weren’t much better for Gabe on the outside. When he closed his eyes, he saw Jack. When he looked toward the house, he remembered the summer days when Jack grilled every night, Jack doing yard work in the spring and fall, and Jack decorating for the holidays. It was a torture Gabe could not escape. More wraith than man, he waited for the day his nanites ceased regenerating. When he could finally close his eyes and know he wouldn’t be opening them again. When the pain of his memories would stop. 

The manifestations of his mind were so powerful, he started to believe he wasn’t simply remembering Jack anymore, but that he walked with him. Commenting on things Gabe couldn’t remember yet loved listening to. He couldn’t help it. He was so lost and lonely.

They roamed about the property, the wraith and the ghost. All this time, Jack remained just out of Gabe’s reach. Some nights the temptation was too much, forcing Gabe to flee. But Jack was always there. 

“Why are you here if I can’t hold you?” he cried, goaded beyond all control. 

“Halloween is coming up,” Jack said. “What are you going to dress us up as this year?”

Gabe let loose a howl of anguish, then collapsed upon himself. Bands of darkness swirled around him, frayed, wispy. He squeezed his eyes shut. Wished for the end. It didn’t come, of course. His eyes slid open, the tattered folds of his body drawing back to reveal Jack standing a short distance away. Backlit by the moon, he appeared angelic. Beautiful. Unreachable. 

“Why,” Gabe moaned. “Why’d you have to go first?”

Jack did not respond. He just watched Gabe, his expression neutral. 

Gabe laughed shortly. “Of course you won’t answer,” he said, bitterness sharpening his words. “You’re not real.” 

But oh, how Gabe longed for it.

Years passed. Endless years where Gabe watched others occupy the house, the outrage he once felt having long faded. Attachments he once held dear meant nothing. Gabe had lost much of himself over time. The only constant was the beautiful, white-haired man who dogged his steps. Because Gabe didn’t know who he was, he didn’t know how to dismiss him. Yet he looked for him all the time. It brought a sense of comfort. 

One day many years later, the man disappeared. Gabe would have looked for him, but a sudden weariness prevented him from moving. Something in him felt he should be more concerned with this. The emotion seemed beyond him. So he remained where he was, looking over a house long abandoned, unsure of why he was here. The wind blew, tugged at his body and his consciousness. Gabe closed his eyes. The ground beneath him seemed to sink, dragging him with it. He went without protest, without question. 

Silence. Darkness. Cold. 

Someone spoke to him. A hand fell upon his. The contact acted like a jolt to Gabe’s system, shocking him back to himself.

Gabe opened his eyes, drew in a soft breath at finding a blond, blue-eyed man kneeling beside him. His smile was tender, intimate. Familiar.

“Hey,” he said in a low, husky voice.

The shadows on Gabe’s memory fled. His eyes widened. “…Jack?” 

“Who else?” Jack replied, his smile widening. He offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Gabe reached for him, only to be checked by the sight of his own hand. No longer the ash gray he had become accustomed to, but golden brown. Breathing hard, Gabe touched his face. No trace of scarring from constantly regenerating nanites. Only those few scars he’d acquired during the Crisis. As Gabe lowered his gaze, his amazement grew at finding he knelt beside a small, smoking circle. Remnants of his body left to be scattered on the wind. Gabe’s heart pounded. He was free.

Ignoring Jack’s proffered hand, Gabe launched himself into Jack’s arms. Buried his face into the side of Jack’s neck, breathed in the scent of his skin. Jack caught him to his chest. Spoke not with words but kisses and nuzzles. From this much needed affection, understanding over why he wandered for so long surged within Gabe’s heart and mind.

For he had come home at last.


End file.
